


Cud

by aisle_one



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisle_one/pseuds/aisle_one
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik wanted a cuddle.  He thought to ask Charles for one, but his mouth refused to cooperate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cud

What Erik wanted was a bit of cuddling, but his mouth couldn't manage the words. Er, word: _cu-cu-cud_.

"Cud?" Charles asked him, brows pinched in confusion. "Well, that's a _non sequitur_." Truly, since they had been speaking on the subject of toasters. Though, frankly, cud seemed a closer cousin to toasters than cuddling, except toasters did naturally lead to _toasty_ , and from there it was a short leap (hardly a divergence) to cuddle. Cuddle, then, to _cuddly_. Perhaps that's where his tongue tripped, confused at the split in the road: left to cuddle, right to cuddly. When faced with a Charles Xavier, the options seemed infinite, even if reality only presented two.

"Are you reading my mind?" Erik asked. Accused? Both. A diversion, and successful at that since it resulted in Charles staring at him, horrified. The words _never, never_ plain in his widened eyes, flashing at Erik with unconcealed, unearned guilt. Red, watery eyes to match his red, watery nose. The poor love. And it was instant karma, as Erik - cowed by the earth-shattering impact of Charles's empathy, combined with the equally potent _adorable_ oozing from his pores, face slick with sweat from hanging it over the steamer - tucked the proverbial tail between his legs and muttered, "Nothing, never mind." Eloquent, that. 

Erik whistled. Time passed. Charles continued to steam his face while prattling on and on about toasters. 

"So?" Erik said, as Charles paused for a breath. He fiddled with his cape and wondered if Charles would think it gallant and be moved if Erik whipped it off and threw it over his shivering body. And, perhaps, while in the act, Erik could insinuate a cud. A cud? He smacked his head. Ignored Charles's startled look. Cuddle, for fuck's sake. It might have been the helmet. Perhaps it was causing gradual brain damage - likely. Erik's luck did tend toward _not at all_ , as in the fortune he drew at birth turned up blank. Nothing. Zippo. Try the next life, buddy. Then again, it might have had to do with the thought - cud, cud, cud - coinciding with the very moment Charles drew his shoulders up and gave a little shake, causing his hair to tumble recklessly. As he licked his lips. His cheeks stained a dark pigment of red from the steam treatment. And he turned his kind, smiling eyes on Erik -

"Cud," Erik said, as he descended to kneel before Charles.

"I beg your pardon."

"I - " Well, bugger it, as Charles would say. Words - word - be damned. Erik took off his cape and slung it around Charles's shoulders. Shuffled close. Closer. Closest...their noses bumped. Charles hiccoughed, then burst out laughing. "There, there," Erik said, smiling, rubbing circles over Charles back. He kissed the tip of Charles's nose, his forehead. A soft, lightning quick peck on the lips. He grabbed two handfuls of Charles's generous ass and hauled him close, closer, tucked his face into Charles's neck. He mouthed against Charles's fever warm skin: _cud, cud_.

"Yes, darling," Charles said, arms looping around Erik, cinching him in. "I love you, too."


End file.
